Sticks And Stones May Break My Bones
by Kanabo
Summary: But words hurt the most. However, in Tsuna's case, not all words are bad. And Nana helps him realize that. *Happy late Mother's Day.*


I am a sentimental troll, so this fic shall have depressing, thoughtful, fail-philosophical, heart-wrenching, tearjerker, bad-attempt-at-being-funny moments.

It's 4:25 AM right now, but my mind is working perfectly fine...for some reason.

Thank you for clicking and giving this a try.

_—Kanabo._

* * *

I know how it feels.

Insults hurt as much as cuts. Hurt feelings last as long as bruises. Broken hearts heal just as fast as broken bones.

...at least, that was what I had thought.

But now, I realize, that words hurt more than that.

They drown you. Strangle your throat, blind your vision. They suffocate you.

And while you're slowly dying, no one notices.

My beautiful, wonderful mother, I can't let her hear me—she'll worry excessively, she already has too much to think about. My strong, bright father—_supposedly, anyway_—well, he's not even here to begin with.

I might as well be invisible, transparent and mute.

It's a shame I couldn't be deaf as well.

_As clear as the sky._

I hear the heart-wrenching sobs and silent screams of hatred. I don't like it, but I listen anyway, because no one else is. Look at it in my view—there are hundreds of people able to help but can't, just because they don't have the time to stop for a bit to listen.

_Ever present like heartbeats._

Of course, being the wallflower has its perks. I have all the time in the world to pause the daily routine of living just to slow down the earth and see the pain thickening the air.

_Nothing helps, though._

It's not like I could just reach out and pull them back from the inky abyss known as depression. It just wasn't possible, because how can I afford to try and aid others when I'm teetering on the edge as well?

_Stupid, useless, no-good, ugly, disgusting._

The tendrils of vile blackness don't seem as bad anymore. They used to torture me, you know. Wring my little neck in my sleep, driving me to the brink of madness. But looking back, they weren't as horrible as words. No, they don't even come close.

_Oh, sorry, were those meant for you?_

Good morning, mister prefect. How well did you sleep last night?

...ow.

That hurt.

Why did you hit me? I didn't do anything.

...what? "Doesn't matter"? Because I'm a...herbivore?

Wait, I eat meat. And you eat veggies, don't you?

...oof.

Huh? Pfft, of course it's painful. Why wouldn't it be?

But hey, you know?

Words hurt even more.

You know that as well as I do, don't you?

...ouch.

* * *

Hey, baseball ace. I don't think it's a good idea to jump.

Why? Well...why _are_ you considering it anyway?

...wow, seriously? Just 'cause you can't play your favorite sport anymore? Who told you _that_?

That sucks. Hmm, I think I kinda get you now. Well, then, see ya.

—wait, where do you live? Oh, the sushi shop down by that street? Okay, got it.

Why am I asking? Ah, well, someone has to tell your father the truth after you die, right? Gossip spreads pretty quickly, you know.

Call me whatever you like, I'm not the suicidal person here. Go ahead and hit me, if it makes you feel any better.

Why are you calling me a bastard? If anything, you're the only bastard out of all of us gathered here. A selfish bastard, at that.

Man, shut up and jump already. You sure are yappy for someone who wants to die.

Oh, so you're _not_ going to jump? Why not? That's killjoy, ace.

Aah, whatever. I'm going ba—WHOA—!

HOLY SHIT, WHY IN THE WORLD WOULD YOU PULL ME ALONG WITH YOU?

WHAT DO YOU MEAN _YOU DIDN'T MEAN TO_? IT'S _YOUR_ HAND, IT BELONGS TO _YOU_, _YOU_ DID IT, SO _YOU OBVIOUSLY MEANT IT_.

GREAT. NOW I'M GOING TO FALL TO MY DEATH AND IT'S ALL YOUR FAULT. WHO'S GOING TO TELL YOUR FATHER NOW, HUH? YEAH, THAT'S RIGHT NO ONE. GOOD JOB, NUTCRACKER.

STOP LAUGHING, DAMMIT. THIS ISN'T FUNNY. WHAT PART OF DYING IS MAKING YOU LAUGH? IS IT THE SPLATTERING GUTS PART OR THE FALLING PART? IT MUST BE THE FALLING PART, SINCE YOU'RE LAUGHING YOUR ASS OFF RIGHT NOW.

I DO _NOT_ WANT TO DIE, YOU FREAKING POLEMAN. DO I LOOK LIKE I WANT TO DIE? WELL, SURE, I MIGHT NOT BE MUCH OF A GUY, BUT I REALLY DIDN'T WANT TO DIE TODAY, MAN. _DEFINITELY_ NOT TODAY. MY MOM IS MAKING _HAMBURGER STEAK_ TODAY. I _REALLY_ WANTED TO EAT THAT. WHY COULDN'T YOU WAIT UNTIL TOMORROW TO DO THIS? I COULD HAVE DIED _HAPPY_, YOU DIPSTICK.

AND THE WORST PART IS THAT I'M DYING ALONG WITH WHO COULD BE THE MOST INSANE SPORTS FREAK IN THE ENTIRE WORLD. I MEAN, SERIOUSLY, WHO THINKS ABOUT SUICIDE JUST BECAUSE YOU CAN'T PLAY _BASEBALL_? THERE'S ALWAYS _SOCCER_, NUMBNUT. **_AAARRRGGGHHH!_**

...

...alright, I'm done. Yeah, I'm just waiting to die now.

...

Wow, is it just me or has the ground not gotten any closer? No, wait, it _is_ probably just me. Your insanity rubbed off of you and onto me, that's just _fantabulous_.

...

...you know...it's been at least five minutes now...is the ground really that far? Wait, why does my body hurt so much?

Oh, sweet baby Jesus, I'm alive because I fell into a tree. A _tree_. Hey, jumbo shrimp, how does that make you feel? Because it's making me feel pretty damn hungry.

What? No, I don't really like sushi. Yeah, I know, weird.

Hey, listen, why don't you come over my house instead?

My mom makes some really great hamburger steaks, you know.

* * *

Dear lord, is gothic fashion in the times or what?

Seriously, I have never seen such hardcore clothes and bling before. I think you've beaten _Haru_ in terms of cosplay.

Wait, it's _not_ cosplay? Then why in lovely hell are you dressed like that?

Oh my flip, are those _firecrackers_? Are you testing them out? If you're going to do that, you should do it at night. I bet it'll be pretty. Hey, can I come and watch?

WHOA, WAIT-WAIT-WAIT—! DON'T THROW THEM AT ME, ARE YOU CRAZY? BEJEZUS, MAN. I COULD HAVE GOTTEN BURNED—heeey, wait a minute... Are you...are you _smoking_?

...holy mother of god, you _are_. Wow, either you're _really stupid_ or _really dumb_. Hibarin's gonna go _nuts_ when he smells that all over you. Doesn't matter if you throw it away, he's got the nose of a coonhound.

Oh, please. You wouldn't be able to land a single hit on that guy. He's can get as angry as the Hulk, you know. Not even storms can stop him when he gets all mad and turns into a rampaging green monster.

I'm not underestimating you, mister delinquent. I'm just stating the facts. Ooh, you've got some fingers there. You play the keys? That's nice.

Hey, would it be a bother for you to play something for my mom? She really likes the piano, and she's busy with housework and stuff. She could really use a break.

Ha, _I'm_ weird? Says the guy who as silver hair and likes setting off fireworks during daylight.

Oh, and by the way, Mom likes Pachelbel.

* * *

Words can hurt as much as physical pain.

I know this by experience.

It mangles your heart and makes you cry blue blood.

But, you know, I've also learned something else.

Yeah, words can hurt. They hurt you in the most unimaginable ways possible.

Hibari doesn't know how to love someone. Who would, if your own parents didn't love you? He might be the most dangerous guy I've ever met (and the only guy that I know of that goes through PMS), but let me remind you that he's a human too. His heart is a beautiful, extremely fragile hollow crystal. It can shatter at the slightest meaning of negativity from the person he cares about, and take almost forever to patch back into shape. It'll be pretty shoddy and my hands will probably be cut all over the place by the time I'll be done. But it'll be fixed, and that's all that matters. And I'm sure he'll just _love_ Mom's hamburger steaks.

Yamamoto hasn't really felt friendship. Those so-called friends of his? They'll ditch him the moment they realize he's not as perfect as they thought. But, hey, man. I'm pretty darn insecure too. Your mother passed away, right? When you were little, just a taller-than-your-average brat who fell in love with baseball the moment you got your mitt that awesome Christmas day. Hey, I know she'll never be _your_ mom. But mine has enough room in her heart for one more. So, how about it? Until you feel better, you can lean on her shoulder. Don't worry, she's stronger than you think. Much, much stronger.

Gokudera isn't able to bring himself to fully trust anyone. He's scared to be betrayed, frightened of the aspect of being controlled by the one he loves. His form of self-guard is his harsh tongue and the belief that innumerable sticks of dynamite will blow all this problems away. He smokes, because the slow burn in his lungs distracts him from the pain in his heart. I recently met his sister (I remember, her name was Bianchi—she told me that only their father was the same?), and I found out just how lonely he is. I mean, who wouldn't be, in a life full of kidnappings and parents that almost never came to see him? Hey, Gokudera. My mom, she's the greatest mom in the world. At least, to me. She probably won't be the best in yours, but will you let her take the second-place slot? It'll be worth it, I swear.

In short, yeah, we aren't perfect. None of us are.

Words can hurt.

And when they do, just look up to the sky and wonder how many out there are hurting as much as you. You'll be surprised when you realize that the world doesn't revolve around you.

Maybe it'll take a long time—years, even.

But, hey. Chin up, man. The world's not gonna end so soon. I mean, it didn't end this year, right?

Find your own little happy place. Anywhere is fine, as long as you can find enjoyment in there and little memories that you would remember for a long time. If the sky turns gray, look for some shelter. And maybe, the next time it rains, you'll have your own umbrella.

Me? I don't need either. I'll just head on home, and let my mom rub me dry a towel. Call me a mama boy, whatever. But she's my home, I'll never think otherwise.

"Tsu-kun? What are you thinking so deeply about?"

Tsuna snapped out of his stupor, and looked at Nana with unreadable eyes. She smiled at him, gentle and full of love. He found himself smiling back, despite his melancholy.

"I was thinking..." He trailed off, and his mother tilted her head for him to go on. Tsuna rubbed the back of his neck, cracking a grin on his face. "I made some friends, Mom. Can they come over for dinner?"

Nana's face brightened, and he thought that he was looking at an angel. She placed her hands on her cheeks, smiling so widely that it put the horizon to shame. "Why, of course, Tsu-kun! That would be so wonderful!"

Then she turned and went to the kitchen. Tsuna stared after her, idly wondering what he would have been like if she wasn't in his life like his father wasn't. Dead, probably. The thought made his smile dry up, and he chuckled at his somberness.

"Hey, Mom," he called, making careful, quiet steps to where his mother was. Nana poked her head around the entrance edge, her eyes glittering askance. Tsuna smiled for all he was worth, from the bottom of his heart.

"Thank you."

_Thank you, for letting me understand that not all words were meant to hurt._

_Thank you, for being there._

Nana giggled, one hand to her mouth daintily. "You're welcome, my dear son. Now, how many people are coming over?"

Tsuna blinked, thought for a bit, and then began to count with his fingers.

Hibari.

_One._

Yamamoto.

_Two._

Gokudera.

_Three._

He held up exactly three fingers, smiling gently. "Three. Just three, Mom."

It was more than a handful, taking care of these guys. You have no clue how tiring and shy they are, really. Too much insecurity, too much stress and worries. Honestly, they were worse than Lambo in his worst stage of brattiness.

But, whatever.

Words weren't all that bad, actually.

So he'll use them to help instead of hurt.

That was just one little step, but it was a step nevertheless.

* * *

**A/N:**

Happy late Mother's Day.

Gosh, this sure was late.

Tell me what you think about this?

lol.

Well, I guess...until next time.

_—Kanabo._


End file.
